Thursday, March 25, 2010

Dirty Little Secret

Abuse is possible when people take advantage of the power differential in their relationships in order to gratify themselves. In sexual abuse - it's sexual gratification. In physical and emotional abuse - it's power and control gratification.

Shame and fear are the lock and key that keep abuse secrets hidden. False blame and false responsibility create the shame and fear. After all, if you believe that something you did or didn't do caused the abuse to happen - then you can hardly justify asking for help. If you got a reward, got special treatment, or felt your first pleasurable sensation during abuse, then you can rationalize the false shame. These are just a few of the strong reasons that those dirty little secrets from your abuse occupy so much of your interior energy. They keep you in the perpetual mindset of victim - fearful, ashamed, and self-protective.

But I want to address another dirty little secret that perpetuates the cycle of abuse to another generation. That's the one that has to do with the way you treat people who depend on you - those who are small, weak, or incapable of fully caring for themselves.

I want to say this clearly. No matter how good your intentions are, no matter what kind of a childhood you had (be it good or bad), there are moments for all caregivers when they absolutely want to annihilate the little darlings that are theirs to care for. A child or vulnerable person's "job" is to push the boundaries in order to discover where they are and how to live within them. A caregiver's job is to create and enforce those boundaries, but to do so with flexibility, fairness, and a good dose of compassion and humor. BUT . . . and it's a big one . . . if we were all to be honest, there are just days when you're sure if you had a machine gune, you'd use it to level the entire neighborhood. The good news is that most of us don't act on that! The bad news is that we want to - or that we partially act on it with our words and actions.

As I said, abuse is possible because abusers misuse their power and control, and in doing so, take away the power and control of their victims. For the victim, that horrid sense of being powerless is almost unbearable. That out-of-control sense sets them up to seek out feelings of empowerment, but this is often done in a very unbalanced or irrational way. It is also done in a very secretive way.

When faced with a less powerful person who challenges you - challenges your authority, your agenda, or your expectations - you can find yourself in a complete, irrational rage. It is important that you recognize WHY this reaction is so intense: it is a trigger that re-attaches you to the horrid sense of being powerless. Your intense reaction could set the stage for YOU to become the aggressor/abuser, if you're not careful.

There is also another variation to this dynamic: that because you feel so helpless to handle the very normal challenges of being a caregiver, you can feel as if you're a helpless victim again. The only problem is that THIS time, you're not the child who was the victim of your abuser, but it may feel as if you're the victim of those who you're caregiver for. This is especially true when they express normal aggression or sexualized behavior. Because you may not have a sense of what is and isn't normal - it all feels very threatening to you, which can cause you to feel like you're being victimized by the ones you are caring for.

While there is much more to these possibilities than I have time to write about here, there is one important aspect to both of these responses. Whether you become the unbalanced, irrational aggressor or the unbalanced, irrational victim of those you care for, both of these responses become one more dirty little secret. Like the dirty little secrets of your own abuse, these are locked in and untended because of your own shame and fear.

The impact this has on your ability to appropriately care for others cannot be overstated. If you feel helpless, out-of-control, shame, and guilt - you're not going to reach out for help. You're not going to let someone who is experienced and wise guide you. You're not going to have access to resources to help you be an appropriate caregiver. You're not going to risk exposure, and in doing so, will cause tremendous damage to those in your care as well as to yourself.

Secrets trigger shame and terror. Wisdom and maturity are not easily threatened and are not afraid to say to others, "I need help! I don't know what I'm doing!" If we keep these kinds of dirty little secrets about our relationships with those we care for, there is a very real possibility that the cycles of dysfunction and even abuse will be perpetuated to the next generation.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Familiarity


A number of years ago, I was in Tajikistan teaching a seminar. If you don't know where that is, it borders Afghanistan and China - it was part of the former Soviet Union. The culture and language could not have been more different from mine. Of course, that's what I love about traveling - exposure to new and different experiences, traditions, and people. So there I was, the guest speaker - speaking through a Russian translator. As long as that translator was with me, I could function pretty well. But the true test came at my first meal with the group. I was on my own and no one was nearby who spoke English.

All eyes were on me. Everyone chattered and smiled. A large plate of osh - which is rice, chick peas, carrots, and a bit of meat, all fried together - was placed in the center of the table, along with a huge kettle of hot tea. We each had a bowl and a fork. Through grand motions from those around me, I figured out they were waiting on me to take the first bite. Sooooo . . . I took my fork and heaped the osh into my bowl. The minute I did that, the whole room erupted in laughter - which confused me greatly! Then, a kind young teenage girl pointed to her bowl, poured the tea in it, and plunged her fork into the mound of osh and took a bite. The bowl was for the hot tea! The fork was for me - and everyone else at the table with me - to eat from the common plate of osh! I truly felt like an outsider. It was fun for all of us, but still - I was profoundly aware that I had no idea what was being said, what the customs or practices were, and what was expected of me.

When you grow up in a dysfunctional home - especially where there is also abuse - that is your native culture. You know the customs, you know the language, and you know the rules. No mentor or translator is needed. You know what is expected of you and you know what to expect. Unhealthy, destructive, and self-defeating thoughts and patterns don't require any effort or thought. They're a natural outcome of your "normal."

Now, that doesn't mean that your "normal" makes you happy, keeps you healthy, or gives you peace. In fact, it is the intensity of pain, depression, rage, or self-sabotage that can eventually push you out into the unknown territory of healthy, functional people. But let me say this clearly - no matter how much you want to change, grow, and move on - the discomfort you feel because you're in a strange land - with strange language, customs, and expectations - that discomfort will be a force to contend with. This is especially true at first. That's why it's so difficult to move beyond abuse. It is completely foreign to you.

You may feel so alienated from a new, healthy way to live, think, and behave - that you run back to what you know best. Even though you tell yourself and God that you want to change - that you want to live a new way - when it comes to putting one foot in front of the other on this foreign soil - intentions can go right out the door. It can feel like you’re the center of attention in a room full of people who are nothing like you, and scooping osh into your teacup - never knowing it was meant for tea. But like my experience in Tajikistan, I've learned to accept the kindness and guidance of others who know what is appropriate.

Yes, it feels awkward at first. You might even be reluctant to ask for help or to watch the natives or use the few words of their language that you've picked up along the way. After all - if you admit you need that kind of assistance - you may find yourself back in the familiar state of feeling small, vulnerable, and out-of-control. That sensation alone, can be a trigger to send you packing back to the way it's always been. But growth is about risk-taking - GOOD risk-taking! Not the reckless, destructive risks that are part of dysfunction, but the risks to function in a new way that won't harm yourself or others.

Before you know it, you'll grow more at home in this new land. You won't be quite as homesick for sickness as you were at first. You'll learn to appreciate the new language, practices, and expectations of maturity and health. One thing I learned a long time ago about traveling. Find someone who knows the language and customs and stick close until you learn what you need to know. Then, venture out on your own and test those new phrases, those new ideas, and those new customs. It won't be long before you pour the tea in your bowl and dip your fork in that osh plate - and you won't even think twice about it!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Screaming Other

I can have a calm exterior and you'd never know . . . just like other people never know about you. They don't hear it, but you do. I call it the "Screaming Other." You take an examination that you've studied and prepared for. The Screaming Other is yelling, "Failure! Looser!" You've lost weight and gotten some new clothes; the Screaming Other is calling you a fat slob. You confidently stand up for yourself, but the Screaming Other is chipping away at your strength. You share hope and faith with someone who struggles like you have, and the Screaming Other is calling you a hypocrite and a phony. You are sober and clean, but the Screaming Other is making so much noise in your head, you wonder if going back to drugs or cutting or risky sex wouldn’t just be easier. You work hard to get an education and professional skills, but when you sit with your peers, the Screaming Other is telling you that you don't really belong there and everyone knows it.

The Screaming Other has one goal: to continue the destructive work of abuse. It makes sure that the lies that felt like the truth when you were small and vulnerable, still push you aside and shred you to ribbons. I say this often, but it bears repeating: abuse causes the lies to feel like the truth, and the truth to feel like a lie.

The lies from abuse are deeply embedded in how you think, feel, and interpret events and people around you. Some of these lies include the belief that you're disposable or unwanted, that you're never going to be good enough, that no matter how hard you work, you'll always be a second-class person.

Over the years, I've had to get pretty aggressive with the Screaming Other. I remember one particular retreat I taught many years ago. I was going through some very tough spiritual growth that left me feeling shaken and unclear about some fundamental issues. That's the way it goes sometimes, even when you lead the charge, you can still find yourself slugging it out with your personal issues. During this retreat, I did what I always do - I shared the love of Christ, pointed the way to hope and peace, and taught with every ounce of strength I could find. Throughout the ENTIRE three days there was the Screaming Other yelling non-stop in my ear, "Liar! Liar! Liar!" And I was mentally and spiritually screaming back, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" It was exhausting, but I worked hard not to lose my focus which would have robbed me and the retreat participants.

A big chunk of the battle with the Screaming Other is to know there IS a Screaming Other. That the Screaming Other is there to reinforce the lies from the past and push you to self-sabotage or do damage to your relationships and your potential. The lies that feel like the truth need to be recognized. This starts with examining the lies. How did abuse make you feel about yourself? About life? About God? About other people? When you go through that process of identifying the lies, then you have awareness. They no longer blend in with your emotional, mental, and spiritual landscape. The stand out like glaring eye-sores and you see them for what they are: lies.

Take that awareness and listen for those same lies coming from the Screaming Other. I think a big secret to abuse recovery is to pay attention to familiar patterns. The Screaming Other isn't coming up with anything new. It's the same-old-same-old. It attempts to push you back into the small, weak, vulnerable, exploited victim role and keep you there.

Get mouthy with it. Tell it to "SHUT UP!!" Laugh at it. Expose it. Confront it. Show your teeth. That Screaming Other is just the cowardly echo of a past abuser and all the damage that coward did to you. Speak the TRUTH to the Screaming Other. Let it know that you're not a victim anymore. That you have value, potential, and hope. That you have chosen to move beyond it and leave those lies behind in a trail of dust.

It isn't easy to shut up the Screaming Other, but I've discovered - in my own journey beyond abuse - that the Screaming Other diminishes in strength and influence as you aggressively counter lies with truth. That's where freedom begins, anyway . . . with truth. TRUTH sets you free - and silences the Screaming Other.